


Fate Entangled

by Dellessa



Series: Seekers of the Wind [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mech Preg, dragonformers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyclonus fled his people long ago, but things change and he must return home, and reclaim his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate Entangled

Cyclonus had wandered far away from Vos, going where the wind bade him. It was called ‘wandering with the wind’ by his kind, something that these city-mechs would not understand. He almost felt sorry for their seeming half-life. They had no second form. They did not know the feeling of the wind on ones wings, or the joy of climbing so high the air was chill and thin. He felt sorry for them, but that did not last. It was an impossible emotion to keep when he saw how they treated each other. He had seen some mechs begging on the streets, without hearth or hope. It was not something that would happen among Seeker kin. They took care of their own. 

Not so with the two-leggers. For all that he could look like one he could not fathom how they could be so cruel to their own. He walked through the slave market, red optics dim as he took in the suffering mechs. It was painful to watch them cower, optics on the ground. A bit of bright white caught his optic. He moved down the row, optics falling on the smallest mech he had seen in the whole market. The little mech surprised him. He visor tilted up, meeting Cyclonus red gaze before ducking away to stare at the ground. In an instant Cyclonus’ spark fluttered in his chest in the most alarming manner. Fluttered and clenched in a way that he never thought it would. He had spent countless vorns in Vos hoping for that feeling, hoping that he would find his mate among the dragons there. Vorns passed, and he felt nothing. Finally he had given up all hope, and fled his native lands. 

The feeling in his chest intensified, becoming a maddening pulse. He knew well enough that it would not go away, and he cursed the little mech. This was not what he wanted. He scowled down at the little mech, becoming more annoyed when the little thing quivered and squeaked, curling in on itself. 

“Can I help you?” the sales mech’s purrr was nearly as annoying as the little white mech’s whimpers. Purple optics watched him, shining with greed. 

“I want that one,” he growled, irritation rolling through him at the way the little mech in question cried out at his tone. 

“Ah, I have more slaves in the tent if you would like to look. Perhaps I could find something more fitting for your station, my lord? Something more...refined?” 

“No. Only that one will do,” Cyclonus said, not caring what the merchant wanted. He had enough dragon treasure in his subspace to buy a hundred mechs like this one. 

The sales mech gave him a sour look, “Fine, what do you have to offer?” 

Cyclonus reached into his subspace, and offered a large and flawless ruby to the mech. he didn’t bother to hide the smirk that inched onto his face as the merchant took the gem from him looking wide-opticed. It was enough to purchase several slaves, Cyclonus was no fool, but he also did not care. He wanted to take the little cowering mech and leave this place.  
“Mmmm...I suppose I could take this. I don’t know---he is a carrier, I could get more for him,” the merchants voice grew wheedling. “I---”

Cyclonus’ red optics narrowed, “You what?” He towered over the other mech and did not mind using his height to his advantage. 

“I---nothing. This is fine,” the merchant finally said in a disgruntled tone when Cyclonus did not offer more. He went over and unlocked the slave from the line, practically dragging him back to Cyclonus and thrust the end of the chain into Cyclonus’ hand. 

Cyclonus vented inside, looking the slave up and down now that he was closer. He was a small thing. Diminutive compared to Cyclonus’ own bulk, and clearly terrified. “What is your name?” he barked, feeling uneasy inside when the mech flinched. He couldn't be that much older than a mechling Cyclonus realized, probably just recently had his final upgrade. he moved like one that was not yet comfortable in his own frame. 

“Whatever you want, master,” came the trembling reply. 

It was not what Cyclonus wanted to hear. He pushed the little mech through the market and towards the hostel he was currently staying in, and decided to try another tack, “What were you called before you were made a slave?” 

“I’ve always been a slave, master. I---I was created for this, but my carrier c-called me Tailgate i-if that is what you want to know.” 

Cyclonus nodded, watching the small mech out of the corner of his optics. “Yes, it is. We will be leaving early in the sol tomorrow, I am ready to return home.” 

Cyclonus turned on heel, chain in hand. He didn’t have to look back to know that Tailgate scrambled to follow, his short legs had to take twice as many steps to keep up with Cyclonus’ long strides. 

He didn’t look back as they left the market and headed to get his meager possessions from the hostel, flight plans already buzzing through his processor. He had not expected to find a prospective mate here, but since he did find him he was not going to let him go. His spark throbbed in his chest, nearly to the point of pain. He wondered for a moment if the little mech felt the same. 

His inner monologue was ground to a halt as the chain pulled tightly when the little mech tripped and fell to the ground with a muffled yip. Cyclonus glared down at him for one long moment before picking the mech up by the collar fairing. He tucked the little mech under his arm, ignoring the undignified squeak the mech made, and continued on his way as if this was commonplace. 

Tailgate vented loudly, huffing when Cyclonus did not put him back down. The purple mech said nothing as they wound their way through the settlement, and finally retrieved the small storage cube from the hostel, and continued on their way to the cities edge. 

Tailgate whimpered as they left the safety of the city, strolling past the city gates, and into the metaliforest beyond. The mech did not protest, but Cyclonus could tell he was terrified. The mech’s field left no doubt of that, it intermingled with Cyclonus’ own thick and cloying filled with dread and fear. 

“M-master, where are we going?”

“My name is Cyclonus.” 

“I---I don’t understand.” 

Cyclonus did not answer, instead he continued to walk deeper into the forest, searching for a large enough clearing to transform. Even so he tried to work out how to explain the little mech. It was not done, and yet his clan might understand. There was some precedence, although he was not entirely sure Prowl would count as such. 

They finally came to a suitable clearing, and he found a large metalitree to wrap the chain around, tethering the small mech in the clearing. 

“M-master, p-please don’t hurt me. I will be good I promised. Please,” the little mech cowered, cleanser fluid coming easily to his optics. 

“Silence,” Cyclonus snapped, moving away from the mech who cringed against the tree. He turned away, and transformed gaining mass as he did. It felt wonderful to be out of mecha form. He stretched his wings out, working out the kinks before turning his attention to where the blue and white mech watched him. He screamed high and loud. Tailgate tried to run away, but the chain held him firmly, trapping him where he was as Cyclonus stalked close. His claws ripped through the chains and snatched the mech up in a giant claw before jumping up into the air. His wings pounded, pulling them up, and up until the were soaring far above the trees. 

Tailgate whimpered, a scream escaped his vocalizer shriller than the first, they lingered until the little mech was spitting static, and finally he settled in a miserable lump pressed against Cyclonus’ warm chest plates. 

Cyclonus soared high, winging his way back to Vos. It took the better part of a joor to make it back to Vosian territory. Sometime during the trip the little mech had fallen into recharge. Cyclonus could hear the occasional whimper over the wind whipping across his wings. It was a relief to finally spot the cliff-face, and his own cave near the top. He landed on the entrance, gently putting down Tailgate he ripped away the collar and the chain with the mech was still in recharge, throwing them off the edge before picking Tailgate back up and carrying him towards the back of the cave. 

He settled the little mech on the berth, curling around him possessively. Despite keeping the mech cradled to him during their flight, Tailgate’s plating was still worryingly cold. He curled closer, letting his own body heat warm up Tailgate’s chassis. He wouldn't lie to himself, it felt nice to have the small mech curled against him.

OoOoOoOo

Tailgate was warm. Wonderfully warm in a way he had not been in vorns. He curled closer to the warm chassis pressed against his own before he stopped, puzzled. It all felt very...odd. It too a klik before his processor caught up with the events of the day before. He froze, afraid to struggle for fear of waking the beast that wrapped about him.

Finally the beast stirred, giving him room enough to slide out and to the floor. He backed away, only realizing then that he no longer had the heavy weight of the collar around his neck cording. The chain was gone as well. He backed up until his back plates hit the far wall, and he slid down watching the creature. 

It was going to eat him, he just knew it. Or use him as some kind of sacrifice. He had heard stories as a youngling about such things. He curled up tightly, watching the monster recharge for a very long time. It was big, much larger than the mech it had pretended to be, mostly purple with two large horns rising from it’s head. It dwarfed Tailgate making him feel even smaller than usual. He grimaced behind his facemask, and wondered how long he had until the monster woke and tore him apart. 

When the monster gave no sign of waking Tailgate pushed himself to his pets and creeped out the only entrance into the berthroom. The cave’s ceiling rose high over Tailgate’s helm, the rooms clearly hollowed out and size the fit the monster. He creeped through each room he found, gawking over the piles of gems in one room. Finally he caught a glimpse of sky and hurried over, his hopes dashing as he walked onto the ledge. He looked down, optics going wide behind his visor as he took in the sheer drop. He would not even be able to climb down. The way the wind was whipping he didn’t even want to get too close to the edge for fear of being pushed over. Still a quick death might be better than being ate alive by the monster. 

He vented softly, looking out at the valley the stretched below. He could see another cliff rising up across the valley. It was dotted with caves, and if he squinted he could see other beast flying across the valley. There was more of them. Maybe they were all going to come here and eat him. The thought made him shiver. 

“What are you doing? Get away from the edge,” the monster said startling Tailgate and making him lose his balance. He would have fallen over the edge he the purple mech not grabbed him by the neck fairing and pulled him away from danger. 

“I---I was just looking,” Tailgate yelped as he was pulled against the large mech’s chassis. There was no sense in fighting, the mech could easily overpower him. 

“You will not do that again. You will not go out here unless I am with you. Do you understand me?” 

“Y-yes, m-master. I-I won’t do it again. I-I promise,” he said, shaking in the large mech’s arms. “You aren’t going to eat me?” 

The red optics looked down at him, incredulous, “No.” 

Tailgate was pulled closer, and the mech checked his chassis over as if looking for injuries. He was finally sat down on his peds, but the purple mech still looked down at him assessment. It was unnerving. “Let me see your faceplates.” 

Tailgate shivered, and retracted his visor and mouthplate, his bottom lip tremble as he looked up at the tall mech and his optics frantically tried to adjust to the light. They had always been overly sensitive. 

The purple mech gripped Tailgate’s chin, turning it one way and then the other. “You will do, I suppose.” 

“F-for what, m-master?” 

“Do not call me that, you have no master. As I told you before, my name is Cyclonus. That is how you will address me.” 

“I---fine, Cyclonus then. I-if you are not going to devour me whole then why exactly am I here? Why did you b-buy me?”

Cyclonus made a huffing noise, “You are free, obviously. And you will be my mate. That is why I brought you here.” 

Tailgate blinked up at him, “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I---I don’t understand.” 

“You will get to know me in time.” 

Tailgate tilted his helm up, he wanted to point out that he really wasn’t free if Cyclonus was giving him no choice in the matter. He was still a slave in all but name. “I-if that i-is what you want of me. I-I understand C-cyclonus.” 

The purple mech nodded, pressing a hand over Tailgate’s sparkplates, making the little mech’s spark clench and flutter. It had done the same thing in the market when the mech had drew close, but he had chalked it over to terror. Cyclonus was big, and intimidating even as a mech. “Don’t you feel that?” Cyclonus asked, “Our sparks resonate, they are compatible. It is a rare enough thing.” 

Tailgate could only nodded, the spark in question fluttered when Cyclonus pulled away. “What are you?”

Cyclonus raised a brow, “What do you think I am?” 

“Y-you aren’t a-a mech. You changed into th-that thing.” 

Cyclonus snorted, “I am Seeker-kin. We are...dragons of a sort.” 

“I-I see,” Tailgate said wringing his hands together, “And w-what do you expect of me?”

“We will bond. You will do your best to learn the traditions of Seeker, and not embarrass me should you encounter any of my kind. You will raise any sparklings we produce, and keep our home neat.” 

Tailgate trembled, “I see. I-I--” he vented loudly, nervously. “I’ve n-never---” 

Cyclonus walked around him, claws skimming across Tailgate’s plating. “We will remedy that soon enough.” 

Tailgate shifted, unsure how he felt about any of this. He didn’t know this mech at all, and the thought of sharing sparks was frightening at best. If it was what his master wanted though he had little choice. 

He squeaked when Cyclonus picked him up, and started walking towards the berthroom. They never made it, though. There was a commotion in the entryway, and Cyclonus turned abruptly scowling as he put Tailgate down and went to investigate. 

“Cousin! We did not expect you back so early,” a large blue dragon said as he moved farther into the room. He was followed by a smaller white dragon. 

Cyclonus bowed deep, surprising Tailgate with the motion, “I did not expect to be back so soon.” 

The white dragon moved closer, circling Cyclonus and Tailgate. The dragon’s tail switched in seeming agitation, “Who is this?” The white dragon sniffed at Tailgate making the little mech shiver. “He is one of the two-leggers. What is this?” 

Cyclonus shifted looking uncomfortable, “I found him in the slave market. This spark made mine react. You know how long I have searched for MY mate.”

Prowl frowned back at him, and looked down at the small mech, “Did you give him an option in this?” 

“Prowl,” Thundercracker rumbled. 

The white dragon growled, filament fur bristling. “Do not Prowl me, the mech is clearly terrified. He should be courting him, you at least tried to win me over.”

Cyclonus growled back, “This is none of your concern, Prowl.” 

Cyclonus knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“He is right, Cyclonus, this goes against our traditions. You need to court your mate, you cannot just steal him and take him like a possession. I can’t allow this,” Thundercracker said. 

“What i-is going on?” Tailgate asked, cringing away from the creatures. 

“You are coming away with us,” Prowl said, snatching up the little mech before Cyclonus could stop him. Tailgate screamed, thrashing and trying to get away from Prowl. “Shhh...it’s okay, we will not hurt you.” 

Tailgate cringed, but ceased his thrashing, “Master, don't let them take me.” 

Cyclonus flinched at the word. He had thought Tailgate understood the way things stood, but clearly he did not. “Perhaps---it is for the best. I will court you, and when you are ready we will bond.” 

Tailgate vented loudly, shaking in Prowl’s grip. Cyclonus would have attacked Prowl for upsetting his mate so...had he been anyone else. He still felt disgruntled by the turn of events. 

Prowl sat Tailgate down carefully before transforming into his mecha mode. That seemed to make Tailgate relax minutely. 

“I am sorry for grabbing you---”

“T-tailgate. My name is Tailgate,” his optics flicked to where Cyclonus was watching him. “M-master? Are you g-giving me to these mechs?” He wrung his hands, and Cyclonus just knew the mech’s lower lip was quivering beneath the mask. 

Prowl gave Cyclonus a sharp and rebuking look. “No, he is not giving you to us. You will just stay with us while he courts you. While you get to know one another.” 

“Master,” Tailgate said again, clearly not understanding. 

Cyclonus sighed, this day was turning more dismal by the moment. He bent down so he was optic to optic with Tailgate. “You are not a slave. I will court you and you have the right to refuse me. Do you understand?”

Tailgate quaked, “I---y-yes, I understand. I j-just don’t k-know why y-you would want me.” 

Cyclonus frowned, not knowing how to explain it and not sound completely ridiculous. “My spark knows we are meant to be, and aside from that I believe I could come to care for you.” His optics brightened, Tailgate was an attractive little mech, but he did not seem to understand that at all and probably would not believe Cyclonus if he told him so. 

“Oh. Okay,” Tailgate finally said looking from Cyclonus to Prowl and back again. “I-I guess I can go with them...if you want me to.” 

“I do. We will do this right,” Cyclonus said, and hoped the mech would not reject him.

OoOoOoOo

  
Tailgate had not liked the flight from Cyclonus’ home to the cave where Prowl and Thundercracker dwelled. It was much bigger, and there was another dragon named Contrail there. He was big like Cyclonus and Thundercracker, but he was colored like Prowl. The large dragon took care of Prowl and Thundercracker’s younglings. There were four, which seemed an excessive amount. Most mechs from where he came from had one, and that was only if they were very blessed. They all took after their carrier sporting little, feathered winglets.

They made Tailgate’s spark skip, he had always wanted a sparkling of his own, and these were beautiful. They toddled around playing in the nursery, still very small. Prowl stepped beside him, a little smile on his face, “Precious, aren’t they?” 

“Yes. They are. You are very lucky. They look like you. Was Thundercracker disappointed?” 

Prowl’s expression softened, “Never. He loves them dearly.” 

“And you. Clearly he loves you as well,” Tailgate whispered. “I envy that.” 

“Give it time, maybe you will have the same with Cyclonus. He is a good mech.” 

“He is intimidating,” Tailgate whispered. “I don’t know why he would even want me, spark compatibility or not. I’m just...” he made a motion encompassing all of his chassis. “Little, and round.” 

Prowl snorted, “You sell yourself short. Do you really think your sparks would not call to each other if you were not compatible? It is a very...rare thing. You should count yourself lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky. I’m not worthy of him. I am---was a lowly slave. He is---well you’ve seen him.” 

“Yes, I have, and I think you are far too hard on yourself. If anything he does not deserve you after the way he acted.” 

Tailgate blinked at the white mech, “I don’t know how you can say that, he is your kin. I am---nothing.” 

“You should not think that. If all goes well you will be betrothed to the ruling families kin. Cyclonus is one of the Winglord’s enforcers. Despite the way he has acted he is a good mech. He has honor. I know it’s hard for you, but you should give him a chance. he will be a good mate, and you are worthy of one,” Prowl said, his tone brooking no argument. His winglets fluttered, “Besides, I can tell you want a sparkling.” 

“I do,” Tailgate said, the longing filling his spark. “I wish i was like you,” he blurted out. 

Prowl frowned, “I do not know why. I have not had an easy time of it. I am as much a foreigner here as you are.” 

“I would never guess that,” Tailgate shifted. 

“I am from Praxus, a halfling honestly. My carrier died when I was a bitlet and I was raised by my grandsire. He offlined, and I don’t know...things went to the pit. Thundercracker saved me. I probably would not be alive if not for him.” 

“You are fortunate, you found someone who clearly loves you, and you care for him just as much.” He wanted that. Wanted to belong, but it had never been an option before. At best his master would have paired him with another mech and expected them to breed the next generation of slaves. He felt so lost with this new found freedom. He went back to watching the fledglings. Prowl had said that they developed in eggs, that was also different. It made him wonder if he could even spark with Cyclonus. Prowl seemed sure that he could, but it still worried Tailgate. 

The white mech picked up one of the bitlets and offered it to Tailgate. He smiled at the eager way Tailgate took the bitlet into his arms. 

“This one is Prism, right?” Tailgate said in awe. “He’s beautiful.” 

“He is,” Prowl agreed fondly, and touched the bitlet’s facial plating. “They are all carriers. It could have been a problem, sadly had Thundercracker’s brothers not already produced sires. The ruling trine always has to have heirs. Otherwise we could be challenged, our ranking stripped.” 

“That isn’t right,” Tailgate said, hugging the sparkling to him. 

“No, it’s not, it’s terribly unfair and backward. Carriers are just as capable of leading, but...” Prowl shrugged, what could he do. “It is the way of things here.” 

Tailgate rocked Prism, and considered what Prowl had to say. “You could always leave.”

“I could, but I have built a life here, and I have bitlets to think about.” He pulled a face, “I do love Thundercracker, as much as an afthead as he can be, and I love my clan. They accepted me when no one else would. I am glad Cyclonus found you. Even if he was going about things all wrong.”

Tailgate nodded after thinking about it for a moment, “I am too.”

OoOoOoOo

Cyclonus looked back, a scowl momentarily inching onto his face as he watched Prowl still walking sedately behind him. The market was busier than usual, but it did nothing to dissuade their chaperone.

Tailgate moved closer as the crowd milled about them, the little mech shifted nervously closer, grabbing Cyclonus’ hand, and holding on tightly. Cyclonus looked ahead, but his engines revved loudly to his mortification. He squeezed the little hand in his own gently anyway. 

“Where are we going?”

Tailgate asked, his field reaching out and mingling with Cyclonus’ own, making the larger mech give his companion a sharp look. He would not have pinned the mech for a tease, but clearly he was just that. 

“There are a few stands with wares I thought you might enjoy. There is a confectioner that visits every market day. You do like energon sweets, don’t you?” 

Tailgate blinked up at him, “I don’t know. I’ve never had any. If you want me to try them though...I’m sure I will like it, Ma--er---Cyclonus.” 

Cyclonus gave him a sharp look, “I am not your master, Tailgate. You are my intended.” 

Tailgate squirmed under that regard and deflated visibly, “I-I know. I’m s-s-sorry. I-I-I’ll try n-not to do it again.”

Cyclonus opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Prowl’s loud growl behind them, “Cyclonus, stop it. You are upsetting him. Is that your intent? Because if it is we can just go right back home now.” 

Cyclonus bristled, “I am not a sparkling to be reprimanded.” 

“No, but you are upsetting my charge. He is your intended you glitch, stop being a cranky-aft.” 

“Please don’t fight,” Tailgate wailed, clinging on harder to Cyclonus’ hand. “I’m fine. I really am. I---please stop.” 

Cyclonus vented loudly and tried to get control over his emotions, “No, I am sorry. I should not have snapped,” he said as calmly as he could. He pushed his field out until it mingled with Tailgate’s. It conveyed his sincerity better than any words could. He wanted this to work. He needed it to. No matter what though he hated having to tiptoe about this emotional scrap. “What would you like to see after the confectioner?” 

Tailgate stared up at him, optics bright, “I don’t know. Whatever you want me to. I’ve never been to anything like this.” 

“We could look around and see if something catches your optic.” 

“I don’t have a-any thing to pay with. maybe this is a bad idea.” 

“You misunderstand, I will pay for anything you want. It is my duty as your intended. To show you I can provide for you, and our offspring.” 

Tailgate blinked up at him, “Offspring, you’ve said that before. Prowl let me hold Prism. I’d never held a bitlet before.” The little mech’s optics brightened with interest and his field flared catching Cyclonus by surprise. 

Cyclonus nodded, watching Tailgate carefully, he could work with this. 

Tailgate walked through the market, openly gawking at the merchants as much as the merchandise. He probably should have warned the mech. He had probably never seen any of the otherlings. He lingered over the stand with the handspun meshes. They were handspun with laserspidersilk. It was dangerous to harvest, but was also worth the effort. It was also very expensive. Tailgate asked about it, his visor going dark at the cost the merchant asked for.  
The little mech moved farther down the table where the smaller meshes were piled up, and looked through them. Occasionally he would look farther up the table longingly where the large blue mesh. 

“C-can I have one of these?” Tailgate asked, voice quavering. 

“It isn’t the one you want though? Is it?” Cyclonus asked picking up the large mesh Tailgate had set down earlier. 

“It’s too dear,” Tailgate whispered. 

“But you want it,” Cyclonus said, seeing an opening. He turned to the merchant, making the purchase before Tailgate could protest any longer. 

Cyclonus pushed the mesh at the mech as they walked away from the stand. The awkward silence that followed left Cyclonus flummoxed. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t the silence, and worse...tears. 

He could only stare as fluid dripped from under Tailgate’s visor, and down his mask. Cyclonus stared. He ignored it and kept walking, but the longer he walked the more angry he became. What had he even done to upset the mech? 

Tailgate clutched the mesh to him, getting it wet, as he cried harder. So hard that he finally stopped walking. His little frame shook. Otherlings stopped and stared, glaring at Cyclonus as if he had done something to the mech. 

He vented loudly, glaring back, and finally picked Tailgate up, tucking him against his chestplating and found the quickest way out of the market. 

“No one has ever bought me anything. Ever,” Tailgate sobbed leaving Cyclonus looking down at him with exasperation. What was he going to do with this little mech? He was left feeling helpless. He had never been good with feelings, and this one seemed to feel everything twice as much as everyone else. He searched his processor with what to say and felt at a loss. 

“You deserve nice things,” he finally said awkwardly. He pulled Tailgate closer, and would have kissed him had he not heard pedsteps behind them, and he turned seeing Prowl hovering behind them. He had forgotten about the mech’s presence in his need to make Tailgate feel better. Then looked at the white mech awkwardly. “Prowl.” 

“I think it is time for Tailgate to go home. Thundercracker is coming to get us.” 

Cyclonus’ spark clenched. Prowl was making everything impossible. “Fine.” He sat Tailgate on his peds, and walked away, cursing inside the whole time. 

“Thank you, Cyclonus,” Tailgate called after him, pedsteps pounding as he ran up behind Cyclonus and Tailgate hugged the tall bot from behind. “Thank you. I know y-you are trying. I want this to work to. I’m just scared.” 

Cyclonus was scared as well, but it was not something he could admit. Not even to himself.

OoOoOoOo

Tailgate had first noticed the mech watching him when he went with Cyclonus to the market the first time. It was unnerving. The mech had a single optic and that optics watched him intently as Tailgate moved with Prowl through the market.

The mech’s single optic followed Tailgate as he moved through the market, and made the little mech move closer to Prowl. “Who is that?” 

Prowl looked, and scowled at the mech. “Whirl. Just ignore him. He is one of the goblins. Annoying, but mostly harmless.” 

Tailgate was not so sure. He didn’t like the way the mech looked at him. It made him wish Cyclonus was there to protect him. He didn’t say anything though, not wanting to put Prowl in a temper. Thundercracker said he was always tetchy before he went into heat...whatever that meant. Tailgate was not sure. He was also not sure he even wanted to know. 

Somehow when he was looking down at the ground he had lost track of Prowl. He looked about frantically, a wave of panic began to flood his system, only worsening as he noticed that the one opticed mech had left his stall and was moving steadily closer. The panic grew and he ran.

OoOoOoOo

Cyclonus paced across the cave. It had never felt so empty. His steps echoed as if mocking him. It had never felt that way until he had found Tailgate. It made him rage for a moment, but he could not hold onto that anger, it flitted away as if it had never been when he thought hard about it.

In the end his shoulders slumped in defeat. This was not what he wanted, but it was very much what his spark did. It was a hard thing to reconcile. Nearly as hard as it was to abide by Prowl’s rules. He had never been very proficient at that, and had taken to spending long amounts of time away from Vos because of it. 

It was tempting to snatch Tailgate away, and flee. They could bond away from Vos. Find a home elsewhere, but he knew that would not be fair to either of them. 

He was started out of his internal monologue by a crashing in the entrance of his cave. Hackles raised against any intruder he ran to see what had caused the ruckus. 

“Oh, frag, Cyclonus,” Thundercracker yelled, “I need you to come, now. Tailgate is missing. He ran away where he was in the market with Prowl.” 

The other dragon barely got it out before Cyclonus was transforming, and leaping off the cliffs edge. He winged towards the market, his spark thumping violently against his chest plates. When he arrived, Prowl was as close to a panic as he had ever seen the mech. 

“What happened?” He rumbled, as he transformed, towering over Prowl. “What have you done with my intended?” 

“I didn't’ do anything. I was talking to him, he asked about Whirl, and then he was gone.” 

Cyclonus bristled. “He asked about Whirl?”

“Yeah, he seemed scared of him, I don’t know,” Prowl said. “I just don’t know. We looked for him everywhere.” 

Cyclonus growled, “Keep looking,” he snapped and went to do the same. He made his way through the market, looking through the stalls despite the protest of many mechs. He searched under tables, in boxes, and when a seller protested he had little qualms about upending tables. 

“What are you doin’, Cyclonus?” Whirl’s voice came behind him. Antagonistic as always. He hated goblins, but he hated this goblin most of all. 

“What did you do with my intended,” Cyclonus roared, tackling Whirl. He pinned the mech down, his claws digging into seams. 

“Ya mean that little white cutie? The minibot? Ah didn’t do anything to him. He ran off screaming. I didn’t even say anything to ‘im.” 

“Why do I not believe that?”

“I didn’t. Ah did follow ‘im for a bit. Frag, and why not.” 

Cyclonus growled, “You must have done something to him.” He pushed away from the goblin, and growled. “If I find out you hurt him I will find you and rip you apart.” 

Whirl snorted as Cyclonus stomped off, continuing his search. His spark contracted with terror, maybe he would never find Tailgate. The thought was terrifying. 

He was close to giving up when he finally spotted something strange. A bit of a white ped was sticking out from beneath of the mesh covering on one of the tables. His spark thumped in his chest as he pulled the mech away and found Tailgate huddle underneath the merchants table. 

Tailgate crawled out, and squeaked when Cyclonus scooped him up, and checked his frame over for damage. 

“Do not do that again, do you not realize how much you scared us all,” Cyclonus snapped sharply. Shaking Tailgate. 

The little mech whimpered, and Cyclonus thought better of his harsh words. “I thought he was going to kill me,” muttered Tailgate when Cyclonus clasped him to his chassis, holding onto him tightly. 

Tailgate...” 

“You weren’t there to protect me.” 

Cyclonus vented hard, “No...I was not. I failed you.” 

“No...I just...please don’t make me go back with them. I...I want to be with you.” The minibot wiggled against him, clinging. “Please don’t make me go back. Please.” 

“I won’t make you, but Prowl...” 

“T-this is between us, not him,” Tailgate said burying his faceplates into Cyclonus’ neck. “I---I want to bond with you.” 

Cyclonus looked down at the little mech in his arms, not believing his audials. “What? Why?” 

“Why not?” the little mech asked, squirming in Cyclonus’ hold. “You saved me, you want to keep me safe. I’ve thought about it a lot, and...I want to be wanted. I want you.” 

Cyclonus was quite. He searched for the words to say, the right words. “I want you, too. You are all I ever wanted,” he finally mumbled. “I think I love you.” 

Tailgate lit up, he threw his arms around Cyclonus’ neck, holding on tightly, like he would never let go.

OoOoOoOo

A/N:  
Inspiration-  
~Cyclonus-<http://www.deviantart.com/art/Transformers-Prime-Cyclonus-268728078>  
<http://aiuke.deviantart.com/art/Cyclonus-186952278>  
Build- [http://www.deviantart.com/art/Friends-in-High-Places-64677054 ](http://www.deviantart.com/art/Friends-in-High-Places-64677054%20)  
Colouration- http://deligaris.deviantart.com/art/Purple-Dragon-90438073   
~Tailgate- <http://25.media.tumblr.com/2cc3e1ffe87d8afea4b34066ebd98a6c/tumblr_mr8mslX0Cn1qe5zd1o1_500.png>  
<http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sleepy-Tailgate-391377921>  
<http://www.deviantart.com/art/TF-MTMtE-All-the-Pretty-Ships-352145482>


End file.
